


It's Raining in Warsaw

by NaomiHyatt



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: CivilWar, Friends to Lovers, I Will Go Down With This Ship, just read it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-08 14:23:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15245289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaomiHyatt/pseuds/NaomiHyatt
Summary: Darcy had no idea what to expect when she moved into Avenger's Tower, but life is about to get a little more interesting, and then dangerous.She and Steve become each other's stand-in-friend. Then they become actual friends. Then they become more…then Civil War happens.Give it a shot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ignore Bruce leaving at the end of AOU and Thor Ragnarok

Chapter One

Life at the Tower was, for lack of a better word, abnormal: from the eccentric billionaire who owned and resided in it, to the enhanced band of superheros who came and went, to the scientists who were breaking down all the laws of the universe (way to go Janie!), not to mention the norse god who brought thunderstorms with him everywhere he went… so, yes, abnormal, but also so very exciting.

I loved my home here with these crazy people. I’ll admit, I was iffy about it at first. When Jane first mentioned Tony’s offer to move to the Avenger’s Tower in the heart of Manhattan, I was adamant that it would be a mistake to move all of her research to a building crawling with the same jack-booted thugs who had taken everything we had in New Mexico. But Tony guaranteed that Jane’s work and research at the Tower would be in collaboration with SI; she would retain complete ownership and control over everything and SHIELD/HYDRA would have no part of it. He even sweetened the deal with a big shiney budget (I was tired of re-assembling and fixing the machinery that Jane had slapped together with what we had), a salary that meant we could live off of more than poptarts (though, the brown sugar ones would always hold a special place in my heart), and, to top it off, accommodations in the tower itself. 

Looking back, I think the deal breaker for Jane was the chance to reside in the same place as Thor for once. But I, Darcy Lewis, was not as easily persuaded… that is until I stepped foot into the *fully furnished* apartment that I had all to myself (that last part I will be forever thankful for since Jane and Thor tend to get very loud during their reunions). Then, of course, came the other inhabitants of the Tower that made living there all the more exciting.

I met Sam first. He happened to be waiting for the elevator as Jane and I were hauling our stuff up to our floor. Besides Thor and the calls from Tony, this was the first Avenger from the Tower that we got to see up close, and I’m ashamed (not really) to say that I stared. A lot. Ever the gentleman, he laughed off my crazy eyes, introduced himself, and helped move all our bags and boxes, and even stayed to help rearrange furniture. I learned this about Sam within the first hour of knowing him: he’s a great listener. As he moved the couch from one wall to the next, I talked his ear off about Jane’s work and all my worries about moving. He gave insightful advice and I was assured even more that maybe this move wouldn’t be a mistake.

 

The Black Widow came next. Our first meeting wasn’t as comforting as my talk with Sam. She appeared out of nowhere in the middle of my kitchen as I was unpacking my dishes (she actually made me drop one of my favorite plates. Now that set will always be off a plate, thanks Nat). She just smiled, introduced herself, and slinked out my front door. Who does that?!?! 

A couple run-ins and baked goods later, we were on a first name basis. It took a while to crack her, but I finally realized that while Natasha Romanov was not an easily trusting person, she desperately wanted a normal friendship; companionship with someone who didn’t see her as a girl stolen from her life, broken, and trained as an assassin. So, on nights she wasn’t doing whatever it is Nat does inorder to know everything about everyone, it was a common occurence to see her sitting on my breakfast bar taking shots of vodka while I sipped wine, and bitch about normal things.

Through her, I met Clint Barton. Or rather, properly met him. Turns out Clint was one of the jack-booted thugs from New Mexico, but now he was semi “retired” and only came to the Tower when Nat called. When he’s not here, he’s on his farm in Iowa with his wife and kids… it’s weird, but the ex-circus performer, expert marksman, and highly trained spysassian is the most normal person who visits the Tower. 

 

Then of course there’s the Scientists Three(!): Janie (Numero Uno in my book), Tony (Boss Man), and Bruce (Mean Green). They all shared neighboring lab space on the level beneath Tony’s penthouse and it was my job to keep them alive. You’d be surprised how such highly intellectual people would need reminding of basic things like eating, sleeping, and personal hygiene. Bruce was the easiest to corale into taking care of himself, but Jane and Tony could become angry drunk toddlers who refused to listen if you let them go on a science bender for too long. So on top of being Jane’s research assistant, I also become a master scientist wrangler. 

Then of course, with good work came more responsibility: it was only after two weeks at the Tower that I walked onto the lab floor one morning to find Pepper Potts waiting for me. In an outfit that probably cost more than my yearly salary (pre-Tony), she offered me the position of PR Manager for the Avengers. And so I was drawn even further into the on-goings of the residents of Avengers Tower.

 

About a month after my move in, I finally met the first Avenger himself. Steve Rogers had been spending the last few years (since that incident in DC) trying to track down his old Army buddy. By that, I mean the WWII Nazi hunter turned Russian assassin known as the Winter Soldier aka Bucky Barnes. Since he had been pulled out of the Potomac by his ex-best friend, Steve was known to spend months searching former HYDRA bases and safe houses looking for any clue as to where Bucky went before he would exhaust all resources and return back to New York. 

When Steve got back from his fruitless search, Sam dragged him out of the solitude of his suite to a “family” dinner I was organizing with the help of Pepper (in an effort to also get the Scientist Three(!) out of the labs and socialize with living, breathing people). Of course, Sam failed to mention the living piece of American history he was bringing to dinner (probably just to get a laugh out of my unprepared first meeting with the National Icon), so imagine my surprise when I walk out of the kitchen and into the dining area of Tony’s penthouse to see Captain freaking America sitting at the table. 

Listen, I’ve seen the old newsreels of the good ol’ Cap in WWII and I’ve seen the PSAs that the modern day Cap had been wrangled into doing, and in both cases, not only was Steve Rogers the epitome of handsome maleness, he was always this upbeat morale compass. His, almost too wide, smile would light up the screen and his deep voice would grab your attention. This version of Captain America was nothing like that. He sat in his chair making eye contact with no one, silent and clearly wishing to be anywhere else. It made me feel bad for the guy.

Also, to add on to the current awkwardness of a first meeting, I was the closest person near him being as everyone else was a good twenty feet away in the living area. Did I introduce myself? What should I say? What does one say to a man who looks like his whole world has been lost?

“So how was the weather in Warsaw?” When in doubt, talk about the weather (?). 

His eyes shot up and registered my appearance across the table. His brow furrowed in confusion. Right, because as PR manager for them, I was privy to the schedules and missions of all the Avengers, not that he knew that because he had no idea who I was. Good job sounding like a stalker, Lewis!

“Sorry, we haven’t met yet, but I’m Darcy Lewis. I’ve worked with Dr. Jane Foster for about 6 years and now I’m the PR manager for you guys.” I said with, what I hoped was, a charming smile.

Recognition crossed his face then, “Lewis and Foster, I’ve seen the dossier on you two. New Mexico and London, you hold your own well for a civilian.” He was looking over my left shoulder as if reading the documentation. I remember reading somewhere that pre-serum Steve Rogers had a very good memory and attention to detail, after Erskine, it became perfect recall.

“Yep, that’s me.” And with that, I was at a loss for what to say next. This was unlike me and it was kind of freaking me out. Usually I never stop talking, and, oh God, more and more time is passing with no speaking. Awkward. (Also, damn you, Sam!)

“Raining”

“Er, what?” So eloquent, Lewis.

“Warsaw. It was raining.” He repeated.

“Ah yes, well, to be honest, I just asked about the weather because I was trying to break the ice, conversation wise. I know nothing whatsoever about Warsaw, or western Europe, though I’m sure you do being as you.. Well, you know. Anyway, it’s really nice meeting you.” Oh there it is. My nonfilter-having, never-stops-babbling mouth. This was getting more and more embarrassing.

To my shock, he smiled. Not that too-wide, almost fake smile from the newsreels or PSAs, but a small genuine smile as if what I said was funny. 

I decided right then that I wanted to see that smile more often.

“Look I don’t always have the best filter on what I say, but it really is nice to meet you.” I spied the small moleskine notebook sitting next to his right hand on the table. Sam told me that for the last few years, Steve had been keeping track of different things he had missed since 1945: people, events, music, tv, and movies. I gestured toward the notebook, “If you ever want a viewing partner for movie nights or some recommendations about music in different decades, I’m your girl. I’m like a pop culture savant.” 

That smile got a little more genuine. “I’ll keep you in mind.”

Just then, the rest of the Avengers gang made their way over to the dining table and Steve resumed his stoic silence as everyone got settled. I took my place across from him and Sam caught my eye and smirked as he took the chair to Steve’s left.

What followed was an uneventful, but pleasant, evening. Well, uneventful if you’re used to Tony’s antics, if not, Tony Stark trying to goad Bruce into Hulking out so that he could test out his new suit in an arm wrestling match may seem interesting. Thank God for Rhodey who was able to talk some sense into the man and end the argument (for the record, I’m firmly on the side of Mean Green). But it did create a good distraction for Steve to politely say goodnight and leave.

 

Two nights later I received a text from an unknown number: “Hello Miss Lewis, this is Steve Rogers. I hope you don’t mind, but Sam gave me your number. I was hoping to take you up on your offer of a partner for watching a movie?”

I quickly saved his number in my contacts and shot a text back: “Sure! When and what movie?”

The response was a little slow, but I figured that was normal for a nonagenarian. “I was hoping you may have time this evening? Around 8 in the common room? It’s some 1960s film Sam thought I would like called ‘Bullitt’. He said it was a classic.”

“Steve McQueen? I’ll be there.” My reply was quick and I hopped up to get dressed.

I showed up to the common room a little before 8 to pop some popcorn and get comfortable before Steve arrived, but I was surprised to find that Steve was already there trying to cue up the movie on ginormous flat screen. I cleared my throat to get his attention.

“Oh! Miss Lewis, hello.” I noticed that while he was still not the guy from the newsreels, he was definitely not the brooding sad guy from the other night. Instead, he seemed to be especially shy and nervous.

“Please, call me Darcy, unless you want me to call you Captain.” i said with a chuckle.

“Darcy.” He said as if trying my name out. “Thank you for doing this. It’s just easier to watch these with someone who can fill me in on references and the times. Sam usually is the one who watches them with me, but he said he couldn’t tonight.”

Hmm, I had a feeling that Sam was, once again, up to no good.

“It’s no problem, really.” I said with a smile. “I’m actually used to having movie nights with Janie, but she’s been seriously busy since moving here and with Thor here… well, let’s just say that she has other things on her mind. So tonight, we can be each other's surrogate friend.”

This seemed to calm some of Steve’s nerves and he moved to take a seat on one end of the couch. I grabbed a throw from the other end of the couch, sat in the middle, and threw the blanket over both of us. Maybe I’m bold, but I think the best way to get used to being around someone is to get close.

He mumbled a “thanks” and I pressed play on the movie. Over the next two hours, we watched some of the best car chases (eat your heart out Mr. Diesel) and I filled Steve in on what trivia I knew (like, McQueen refused to use a double for the intense driving. In fact, he made sure his face was always close to the car’s window so the audience could be sure it was him.)

By the time the credits rolled, I realised that I had gotten so into the movie, I hadn’t noticed that I had begun to lean into Steve. Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, he seemed quite content and relaxed. I noticed that his eyes showed no sign of the fatigue or weariness from the other day and I saw no trace of frown lines around his lips. His lips… knock yourself out of it Lewis! 

This man clearly needs a friend, not some girl ogling him!

I made a show of getting up and stretching, “Well, this was great, but I’ve gotta head out if I want to have a clear head in the morning to decipher Jane’s notes. I love that girl and she’s brilliant, but her handwriting is glorified chicken scratch.”

“Thanks again, Darcy.” Steve said as he got up and folded the blanket. Oh, that smile again. I would do anything for that smile.

“No problemo, Dude.” Way to keep it cool, “Let me know if you ever want to watch something else, or if you want a recommendation.” I started to make my way back towards the elevator and up to my suite. I needed to get out of here before my tired mind made me say anything embarrassing. 

“I’ll keep that in mind” I heard as the doors closed.

 

Our movie nights actually started to become more commonplace as the next few weeks flew by. Two or three nights a week we would meet up, alternating between movies on his list and my recommendations. Every so often, Sam would join us, but more often than not, it was just the two of us. 

As weeks turned into months, our “surrogate” friendship became an actual friendship. Steve talked to me about his past, I complained about the obtuseness of Tony, we listened to music while I read and he sketched, and, of course, we had our movie nights. 

Steve still checked on every tip he got on the location of Bucky, but he didn’t spend as much time away. And each time he came back, it became easier and easier to figure out how best to get him through the let down of dead ends. He was no longer running himself ragged as if this were his last grasp at a world he knew. He slowly came to the realisation that sooner or later, when he was ready, Bucky would make himself known.

Then the incident in Lagos happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Ignore upstate facility

Chapter 2

I watched the news coverage about the explosion in Lagos over and over again. It was on every news channel and every time I saw Rumlow pull out that detonator, my heart stopped for a second. Over and over again I watched how close I had been to losing one of the most important persons in my life. If it hadn’t been for Wanda…

Oh, Wanda. Her face as she saw the damage that explosion had done to that building. My heart broke for her and those people, but that more selfish part of my heart rejoiced when the smoke cleared and I could see Steve alive and calling for medical help.

I knew that the team would stay in Lagos for a while to oversee the clean up and help out where they could, but they should be headed back home in the next 24 hours. I couldn’t sleep in the meantime, so I paced and cleaned and baked. Anything to keep my mind off of the news footage and what could have been.

My mind kept wanting to go over those seconds before Rumlow revealed the bomb; what was he saying that got Steve to pause while so close? The footage was from civilians’ cellphones and grainy, so it was impossible to decipher Steve’s facial expression. 

I had FRIDAY keep me up to date on the ongoings of the team and she notified me that evening that the team was on their way back. I waited a few hours and then ordered several pizzas to be delivered and waiting for them when they landed. Then I got to work baking some fresh brownies and banana bread. I’m no superhero and have no amazing, life saving, talents, but food I could take care of. Comfort food was definitely needed for everybody. 

It was late when the quinjet landed and the team definitely looked worse for wear; it was apparent that they probably hadn’t ate or slept in the last 36 hours. 

Sam walked in and gave me a one armed hug and a thank you as he grabbed three slices of pepperoni. Natasha gave me a half attempted smile as she grabbed a brownie and went straight for the freezer where the vodka was kept. She was back out the door and heading towards her suite before anyone could question her. She processed things on her own. Wanda walked in and made a concerted effort to not make eye contact as she grabbed a slice of veggie pizza and sat in a dark corner to pick at it.

Steve didn’t follow in after them. Not that I was surprised; he usually was the last one back after a mission, especially if it went south and there were people to look after or extra long reports to write. This seemed like an extra extra long report type of mission.

So I waited: I went and sat next to Wanda grabbing her hand under the table and squeezing. There didn’t seem to be any words I could say right now to make her feel better and it was too soon to make jokes, so I left her to her silence. She would be ready to talk about it in her own time. Instead, I made small talk with Sam about an agent that he had been known to flirt with. While he may flirt with a lot of girls, he seemed serious about this one, and, ironically, rumor had it that she was the niece of Peggy Carter.

An hour passed before Wanda claimed that she needed sleep (though I doubted that her mind would let her rest). Sam followed soon after, but not before making the comment that Steve would need a friend tonight.

Speaking of which, he still hadn’t appeared so I took the initiative to text him: “Hey Big Guy, I have pizza and your favorite banana bread if you’re hungry, which I know you are because you’re as bad at looking after yourself on missions as Jane when she’s on a bender. Let me know when you’re done with whatever it is that you’re doing.”

It took 5 minutes for a response: “I’m heading to my quarters now, would you meet me there?”

I hesitated before typing out a response; I had never been to his suite before. In the six months it’d been since our friendship began, we had spent all our time either in the common area or the living room in my suite. Now, going to his suite (his Fortress of Solitude as I sometimes referred to it) seemed a little intimidating. 

Even though Steve had begun to open up to me more and more, there was still apart of him that he kept blocked off from everyone. A lot of it had to do with his past and the blame he placed on himself for losing Bucky (*twice*). When he was truly going through a rough patch, he locked himself away on his floor and no one was given access to his rooms.

That foolish part of my heart fluttered to life. There was a shift happening in our friendship, I could feel it.

The more sensible part of me squashed that down real quick and reminded myself that I truly valued the friendship I had built with this man. I couldn’t do anything stupid or silly to defy the trust that he seemed to be putting on me.

I typed a quick, “Be there in 5” before I could think better of it. Then I gathered up the pizza and banana bread and headed to his floor.

To my surprise, the biometric reader on his door recognised me and let me in as soon as I got to his door. I found him sitting on his couch in his living room with only the light from the kitchen shining in. He had his face covered by his hand and greatly resembled the man from the first evening that I met him.

I cleared my throat to get his attention, “Sorry, I would have knocked, but my hands are full and the door just opened for me..” I trailed off awkwardly. He looked up, not startled, just like he was expecting me and had no intention of hiding how he was really feeling.

“Yeah, I, uh, added you to my security access a few weeks ago.” He replied as he got up to take some of the food from me and set it on the coffee table.

“Oh.” Keep it together, Lewis. “I’m really glad you’re back. I was worried and couldn’t stop watching all the news coverage.” That was an understatement.

“It was close.” He said quietly.

“I know.” I said just as quietly. “So listen, we’re not gonna dwell on that right now. Instead, I’m going to queue up Netflix and reheat some of this food while you go change out of that tac suit and clean up. Then you’re going to eat, mindlessly watch tv for a while, and then get some shut eye. Is that understood, Captain?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t quite smile, but he did as he was told.

I got to work turning the oven on and finding a pizza slab to warm up the, now cold, pepperoni. When I heard the water running from the bathroom off what must be the master bedroom, I took the chance to look around the apartment. Bigger than my own, an open floor concept that had a spacious living area, connecting to a dining area, that was then separated by a bar into a decent sized kitchen (big enough to have an island in the middle that I was jealous of because, as a baker, there was never enough counter space). Down a short hallway, there were three doors: the one that Steve went through that must be his bedroom, another full bath, and a smaller guest bedroom that, upon peeking in, contained an easel and some art supplies. While it may seem like a dream apartment to some, the space was, in a word, cold.

It was sparse; nothing on the walls, furniture that came with the apartment, no photographs or personal belongings anywhere in sight. Well, there was a laptop and what looked like a sketch book sitting on the dining room table. 

Before I could let my mind wander too far with the possibility of snooping in the sketchbook, I heard the shower shut off and the curtain being pulled to the side. I walked back over to the kitchen to check on the pizza and pull it out.

“You really are too good to me, Doll.” Steve said, walking back into the room, as I grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed him one. 

“Yeah, tell that to Tony and Jane when they complain about me forcing them to eat and sleep.” I said with smile and took the warmed up food and my beer over to the coffee table. “Now, Soldier, it is time to watch mindless television and put all your worries on the back burner.” I patted the seat beside me on the couch and he obediently lumbered over.

I turned on some silly late night sitcom reruns and we ate what was left of the pizza. When that was done I grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and put it over both of us. That seemed to be Steve’s cue to relax; he leaned further back into the couch and threw his arm over the back, so I took that as my cue to lean into his shoulder.

I peered up to see a small smile on his face, “The team will get through this. There is so much ugliness in this world, but it’s you guys who fight every day to keep it at bay. People know this. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I hope the world has as much faith in us as you do Darcy Doll.” He took a deep sigh and closed his eyes.

“You’ve proven yourself over and over again. You’ve poured everything you are into helping out everyone else. Now, take a little time for yourself and treat yourself to all the things you deserve.. Like late night television.” I turned my attention back to the tv. As I was turning up the volume, I felt him press a gentle kiss into my hair and relax again.

For the next hour or so, we escaped into the hi-jenks and hilarity of the modern middle class family. When I finally looked back up at him, he seemed to be lightly dosing. I took it as an opportunity to study one of the most handsome faces I had ever seen (sue me). He seemed so peaceful; right now, he wasn’t feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

After I got in my five minutes of gawking, I decided it was probably time for me to leave. I eased him down til he was laying and covered him in the fallen blanket. I got up and stretched my arms, as I was reaching down to pick up the dishes off the coffee table, Steve’s hand wrapped around my wrist. My eyes flew up to his face to find him watching me.

“Did you mean it?” He asked as he sat up. 

“Mean what?” Suddenly my mouth had gone completely dry.

“That I should treat myself to the things I deserve, to the things I want?” He was pulling me back onto the couch with him.

“After all the things you’ve lost and given up, yeah, you should take what you want.” I was starting to feel bold.

I hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to me until his lips pressed against mine. It was passion and fire all at once. It wasn’t just his mouth, his hands were everywhere and I was being leaned back into the arm of the couch. ‘Where the hell did this come from?’

After I got over my initial shock, I began to move with him. He must have taken that as a signal to take it up a notch because his lips moved from my mouth to my neck as his hands worked their way up from my waist to my breasts.

“Steve. Steve, wait a second.” I needed a second to think and I couldn’t think with Steve’s lips on me. This was someone that meant the world to me, and while, yes, I was obviously attracted to him, I don’t know if I would be willing to throw away the relationship we had for a fling.

Finally, he pulled away and looked at me with hooded eyes and pupils blown wide.

“What are we doing?” I couldn’t stop my voice from shaking.

He looked away from me for a second and when he looked back he seemed to be more focused and not as lost in the moment. “Doll you’re the one thing good that’s happened since..” he gestured to his body. “I’ve lost everything I’ve known and cared about. Then, I found Bucky only to… For a while, I felt like giving up, on everything, but then when I was at my lowest I met you. A dame who looks like everything I wanted back before the war, who has the mouth of a sailor, and the humor to bring me out of my own head even on my darkest day. You are brilliant and witty, and I don’t know if I deserve you, but you’re all I want.”

Well, shit. What do I say to that?

“Are you sure?” 

“Please.” The word had barely made it out of his mouth before I was on him. Running my hands through his air as I attacked those perfect, soft lips of his.

The next thing I knew, he had lifted me up, wrapped my legs around his waist, and was heading towards his bedroom. I giggled as I bounced down on the mattress and he was quick to quiet me with his mouth. My boldness returned as I grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted. He helped me remove the rest of his clothes and made quick work of my own.

Everything happened so quickly after that, that it felt like my head was spinning. But when he was finally inside me, I felt grounded. That stretch lit me up, but it felt right. It felt like home. He brought me to the edge three times before falling over himself.

Afterwards, with his arms around me and his body moulded to mine, I started to truly believe what I had told him. It was all going to work out and be okay.

But then the Accords came.

**Author's Note:**

> IGive love and I may write faster.


End file.
